What Might Have Been
by Clarity1
Summary: After the end of Season 6, Buffy, Xander, and Dawn make a few wishes. But the world Anya creates to grand them isn't quite as perfect as it first appears...
1. Prologue: I wish

What Might Have Been  
  
Author: Clarity  
  
Category: Angst/Action/Adventure  
  
Disclaimer: Sunnydale and the Scooby Gang and associates (even the dead ones) belong to Joss Whedon. This particular AU is all mine.  
  
Summary: After the finale of Season 6, Buffy, Xander, and Dawn relive old, bad memories and wish that things were different. Anya makes it so. Little do they know that change isn't always good.  
  
Rating: PG at the moment, possibly stronger later on  
  
Spoilers: Pretty much everything major in the series. If it happened, chances are I'll mention it, and probably change it.  
  
Relationships: Giles/Jenny, Xander/Willow, Buffy/Jesse, Buffy/Angel (slight), Cordelia/Riley, Tara/Patty (OFC). Also, the gang in LA, which is mentioned but gets no camera time, is all paired off except for Angel: Amy/Doyle, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Darla. Yes, I said Darla. Don't ask, just read.  
  
Feedback: Please?  
  
Author's notes: On a recent vacation in Florida, I mannaged to catch the cable reruns of the very beginning of the series. I started bitching to my father about how they killed off Jesse in the first episode and never mentioned him again, which got me to wondering what would have happened if they hadn't. With the utter hell the gang has been going through since the very beginning of Season 6, the rest just fell into place.  
  
  
  
They met without speaking, in the street in front of her house. No words were necessary, not now, and none would have sufficed, anyway. There were just looks, tired, sad, regretful, that said all that needed to be said. Buffy held the door for Xander, who was all but carrying the nearly unconscious Willow. He mannaged a small smile in thanks, a curving of his lips that came nowhere near the region of his eyes.  
"You should...you should put her in my bed," the blonde Slayer offered quietly. "I mean, instead of the room where..." She trailed off, unable to continue, and he nodded in agreement without speaking. Dawn slowly shut the door while Xander maneuvered the red haired young woman up the stairs.  
He laid her down on the bed with a tired sigh. Willow murmured something, too quietly for him to hear, and curled up like a kitten. Xander watched his best friend for a moment, then rubbed at his eyes tiredly and turned to go back downstairs.  
The slayer was on the couch, staring blankly off into empty space. Dawn still hadn't moved from the doorway. He sank down next to Buffy, wrapping one comforting arm around her and patting the sofa next to him on the other side. Dazedly, the younger girl took a seat, one arm curled around Xander's waist, the other reached across so that she could hold tightly to her big sister's free hand. None of the three spoke for a long moment, simply taking comfort in each other's presence after the hell that had been the past twenty-four hours and, to a greater extent, the past seven years in their entirety.  
"How did our lives end up like this, huh?" Xander finally asked, his voice sounding strangely loud as it broke the pervasive silence. "How did we end up like this?"  
"It's my fault," Buffy admitted somberly, not shifting her gaze from the empty space that so captured it. "All of it is my fault. It was my job, my...my responsibility, to notice, to take care of things, before they...I don't know, before they..."  
"Spiraled out of control into the kind of mess none of us had any idea how to handle?" Dawn countered. "Buffy, we've been over this. It's not your fault. We should have noticed, should have done something...I mean, with you all wiggy from the whole ressurection thingie...I mean, I'm the one that made the wish that trapped us all in the house, and stole all that stuff, and...I mean-"  
"It was everybody's fault." Xander shook his head slowly. "Or else it was nobody's fault, I don't know. I mean, this whole past year has been..."  
"Hell," Buffy declared flatly. "And I don't just mean...in comparison," she added softly. "Even our lives before...none of us were sane this past year. Everything went wrong. Not just Willow. Between me with Spike, just so I can feel something again, to Dawn's whole klepto phase, to..."  
"Me leaving Anya at the altar, her getting her powers back, Giles abandoning us all to go back home to England..."  
"It all just kinda collapsed, didn't it?" Dawn finished. "I mean, Tara was kinda the only one of us still more or less sane."  
"Was it always like this?" Buffy asked. "Our lives were always complicated and painful and everything, but...didn't there used to be a time where the good guys were the good guys, and all we had to fight were soulless demons?"  
"Once upon a time," Xander agreed heavily. "God, it feels weird saying this, but I miss the Master." Both of the girls shot him looks.  
"I wouldn't go that far."  
"I don't know," Dawn disagreed with her sister. "I kinda know what he's saying. I mean, I wasn't really around much before last year and all that, but I remember you gearing up to fight demons, and you always knew what you were going to do with them. You didn't know how you were going to kill them, but you were always going to make them dead. Even with the whole Glory thing, we all had each other. We knew who we were fighting, even way, way back when we didn't even know who we were fighting, and it wasn't us." She blinked at her convoluted sentence. "Okay, that probably makes the kind of sense that doesn't."  
"No, you're right. Even with Angel...well, nobody ever was saying that Angelus wasn't evil. We all knew he was evil. The question was just if we could save Angel."  
"And meanwhile, the biggest personal issues the rest of us, your faithful sidekicks, had during that period of time were how to write lesson plans and not fail biology," Xander added. "We all pretty much knew what we wanted at the time, or at least who we were."  
"Right. My boyfriend was trying to kill me, and I felt...well, hurt, betrayed, angry, like my heart was ripped out and fed through a paper shredder, but at least I was feeling. I knew I was alive, and in the end I knew what I had to do."  
"So when did it all change?" Dawn asked of the two semi-adults. "When did it stop being all black and white? Why did it get all gray?"  
"We grew up," Buffy responded bleakly. "We learned. Life's not just right and wrong, that's why it's so hard."  
"It just kinda took the whole world falling apart for us to figure that out," Xander added.  
"I wish Giles had never left. I mean, even when things were kinda going crazy early on, he sorta...held us together. You know?"  
"I know," Buffy agreed with her little sister. "I missed him, too. Everything was just so...I wish I hadn't ever slept with Spike. I wish the whole Spike thing had never happened, period."  
"I wish I'd never left Anya at the altar. I wish all our personal lives would just settle down, that we could all find some kind of stable relationship and actually be able to stick with it."  
"Well, while were wishing..."  
"Go ahead and say it, Dawn. You wish Tara had never died."  
"I wish Tara hadn't died. I wish we'd never even heard of Warren and his stupid threesome."  
"I wish I'd been able to see what was happening with Wills before we did," Xander added. "I wish we'd been able to stop it when we could."  
"I wish I'd been able to see anything. That I hadn't felt so dead. I wish I'd never died in the first place."  
"We all wish that, Buffy."  
"And I wish I hadn't failed so badly against Glory for so long. That we were able to defeat her earlier."  
"I wish you had let me help, you know, Buffy? That I was able to be something besides the little sister you had to protect all the time."  
"Yeah, and I wish I were more than just the smart aleck zeppo. We're sidekicks, Dawnie. We stand on the sidelines and cheer her on."  
"I wish we were a real family, Dawn. I'm sorry...I know I'm not Mom, and I never will be...I just wish so much we could be some kind of normal family, with the mother and the father and..."  
"I wish this family, our family, didn't keep loosing members like this." Xander again. "Even before Tara...I mean, I never liked Riley, but before him there was Oz, and Angel and...Cordelia, when they left..."  
"Breaking hearts to pieces every time, right?" Buffy almost smiled at that. Almost. "I wish all of our hearts hadn't been broken so many times. With Riley leaving me, and Oz with Willow, and Angel, and you and Cordy..."  
"And even Faith...I wish she hadn't turned on us like she did."  
"I wish Faith hadn't turned out like she did, too. That she hadn't gone evil...that I didn't have to throw her off a roof."  
"I wish we never had to blow up the school on graduation day...scratch that. It was almost kinda a little bit fun to blow up the high school. But I wish so many people hadn't died."  
"While we're wishing, why not just wish the Ascension had never even happened, period?" Dawn suggested. "That would kinda take care of the whole thing."  
"Okay, I wish the Ascension had never happened. I wish the Ascension had never happened, that Angelus had never tried to open Acathla to begin with...I wish I'd never turned Angel into Angelus at all."  
"And I wish he hadn't killed Miss Calendar."  
"I wish I'd been able to get to know Miss Calendar. She was a witch, right? And your computer teacher?" "And kinda Giles' girlfriend," Buffy added. "I wish she'd never died, either. Especially not before I got a chance to apologise for blaming her so much for Angel loosing his soul."  
"I wish Drusilla hadn't killed Kendra. God, I don't want any of our friends that were killed to have been killed."  
"I wish it had all gone differently for you guys. That you hadn't had it so hard."  
"I wish the whole damn thing had started better. All of it, from day one, ever since the first day you walked into Sunnydale High, and the first night Wills and I went out into the cemetary with you."  
All three were quiet for a moment, remembering the blood that had been spilled to christen the Slayerettes as early as their first night together in a cemetary: the blood of one of their own. Then finally, once again, Xander spoke.  
"I wish it had started better. I wish Jesse had never died."  
  
Three quarters of the way up the staircase, just out of sight of the three on the sofa, a figure stood in shadows. She'd teleported with ease into the house so full of pain and suffering that, even with its destructive edge dulled, stood out to her like the beacon of a huge lighthouse on an otherwise pitch-black night. Her first intention had been simple. With Giles resting more or less comfortably, and assuring her that he was fine, she had wanted to check on Willow. Willow, and none of the others. She wasn't sure she could face the others right now, not when she was still so uncertain as to whether she still cared for them as friends-or more-or not.  
But now, listening to the conversation taking place in the living room, the thousand-year-old vengeance demoness Anyanka realized that at its main center, the pain she could feel emanating from this house didn't come from the redhead sleeping in the room above. No, it stemmed from the hearts and souls of the three below; poured out from them like a tidal wave as they relived all the suffering they'd been forced through for so many years. Their quiet speech served as nothing but a whispering echo of the screaming she could hear from all three of them.  
Normally, Anyanka used her powers in very special circumstances. She helped scorned women, granted them wishes to revenge themselves upon the men that had hurt them. A hundred years ago, Anyanka would have shrugged and left. The people sitting upon the sofa had been hurt, yes, badly hurt, but not by any one person, certainly not any one boyfriend, one unfaithful lover. They had been hurt, had been ripped to pieces and stapled back together only to be shredded once again by the forces of life itself. And life was an entity that, a hundred years ago, Anyanka would never have considered vengeance upon.  
But a hundred years ago, Anyanka had forgotten what it was like to be human, and not yet rediscovered it. She hadn't fallen in love with the singularly annoying male that went by the name of Xander Harris. She hadn't found the friendship of a blonde vampire slayer and her little sister, of a Watcher, or two witches. A hundred years ago, Anyanka had taken revenge for the pain of others, because it was her job and because it was fun, but never because she felt the hurt herself. She hadn't herself experienced the death of people she cared about, of a self-sacrificing Slayer who, by the grace of the gods, came back, or a kind witch, who didn't. A hundred years ago, the legendary vengeance demoness Anyanka couldn't possibly empathize enough with the three people seated in the room below her now to give them more than a second look.  
But then, if she had still been the Anyanka of a hundred years ago, she wouldn't be standing on the staircase in the first place. She wouldn't be in this house, checking on Willow, or even in this town at all. So what the Anyanka of a hundred years ago would have done in this situation really didn't matter. This Anyanka, this Anya, looked solemnly down at the people wishing they lived in a better world, giving voice to the things she herself wanted as much as anything. She nodded once as a final wish was made. Finally she spoke, her voice deep and sonorous.  
"Done."  
  
  
Questions? Comments? Whether you want to beg for more or threaten my life if I ever again set finger to keyboard, there's a nifty little feedback button I beg of you to use. Constructive criticism is much appreciated, but anything is welcome. 


	2. Chapter 1: Morning in a new world

What Might Have Been  
  
Author: Clarity  
  
Category: Angst/Action/Adventure  
  
Disclaimer: Sunnydale and the Scooby Gang and associates (even the dead ones) belong to Joss Whedon. This particular AU is all mine.  
  
Summary: After the finale of Season 6, Buffy, Xander, and Dawn relive old, bad memories and wish that things were different. Anya makes it so. Little do they know that change isn't always good.  
  
Rating: PG at the moment, possibly stronger later on  
  
Spoilers: Pretty much everything major in the series. If it happened, chances are I'll mention it, and probably change it.  
  
Relationships: Giles/Jenny, Xander/Willow, Buffy/Jesse, Buffy/Angel (slight), Cordelia/Riley, Tara/Patsy (OFC). Also, the gang in LA, which is mentioned but gets no camera time, is all paired off except for Angel: Amy/Doyle, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Darla. Yes, I said Darla. Don't ask, just read.  
  
Feedback: Please?  
  
Author's notes: This is more of a background chapter, to set the scene for the next section. The basic groundwork for the AU is established, but there's not a whole lot of action. I just wanted to get this out, because the next section looks like it's going to be pretty long and _very_ angsty. Certain things will be confusing, but I promise I'll explain as we go along. Enjoy!  
  
  
  
Xander wasn't sitting on the couch any more. It took him a moment to realize that the reason for this was, quite simply, that there wasn't a couch any more. A moment later, he came to the conclusion that the rest of the furniture in the room was vaguely different than it had been a minute ago, too. Or had Buffy started keeping swords in racks on the walls like really pointy pictures or hanging plant baskets? He couldn't remember-he wasn't big on interior decorating-but he was pretty sure that big bookcase hadn't been there a moment ago. It looked more Giles-y than Buffy-ish.  
  
He would have asked her, but neither the Slayer nor her sister were sitting next to him on...well, on the floor where the couch had been a moment ago...any longer. So, cautiously confused, he got to his feet, promptly smacking his knee on an end table that he was sure wasn't supposed to be there. Xander bit off a loud expletive, rubbing his leg and wishing he hadn't said anything; though weirdness, in Sunnydale, was nothing new, it tended to involve some kind of demon or another that the Scoobies then had to kill. He didn't want to attract this one right to him before he even knew what was going on. With that in mind, he was lifting one of the swords off the hanging rack, just in case, when the dog started barking.  
  
Since, between the hyenas, Oz's werewolf, and the hellhounds at prom, his experiences with various demonic somewhat-canines hadn't exactly been stellar, Xander tensed carefully and raised the sword blade. The big dog that came running down the stairs didn't seem demonic, but it didn't need to. The huge bull mastiff was easily large enough to lick Xander's face-or tear out his throat-without even standing up on its hind legs. It yipped happily, an unexpected sound from such a big animal, upon seeing him, and loped forward. For his part, Xander backed away slowly, raising the sword point.  
  
"Nice doggy," he tried to soothe in a somewhat-shaky voice. The dog tilted its head to one side, its excited yip turned into a confused whine, but it stayed put. "Good doggy."  
  
Then the mastiff started barking its head off.  
  
  
  
"Apollo! Hush!" The scolding voice that carried downstairs sounded vaguely familiar to Xander, though he couldn't place the woman it belonged to. "Michael's sleeping, silly boy. It's too early. Hush." The dog-Apollo?-promptly shut up, leaving Xander to try and figure out why a pregnant woman in a robe and nightgown was coming down Buffy's stairs at 5:30 in the morning. She bent down just slightly to scratch the dog's ears, then tucked back the short black hair that was hiding her face and turned to face Xander.  
  
In an instant, the point of his sword was quivering at her throat. Apollo let out another confused whine as the woman who looked exactly like Jenny Calendar-a pregnant, hair-cut, slightly gray and somewhat older Jenny Calendar, but Jenny Calendar no less-blinked in surprise.  
  
"Xander, what the...what's wrong? Is it Willow?" The surprise in her eyes flickered into concern. "Is she okay? What happened?"  
  
"You tell me," he managed in a low voice, pressing the sword tip forward just slightly. "Who or what are you, and why the hell are you wearing Miss Calendar's face?" Apollo started growling again.  
  
For her part, she just looked confused. "Xander...it's me. Jenny. You know me. I just saw you last night, remember?"  
  
He let out a small snort of disbelief. "Whatever you are, you really need to work on your cover story. Miss Calendar died over four years ago when Angelus snapped her neck. So you've got thirty seconds to tell me what you are, what just happened, and why you're in Buffy's house, or..." He didn't bother to finish the threat-not so much because it was more effective, more because he couldn't bear to tell even the image of the much- mourned dead computer teacher that he was going to kill her.  
  
The Miss Calendar lookalike swallowed nervously. "Please put down the sword, Xander. I don't know what happened, but I promise I'll try to help. Just...put it down?"  
  
"And what? You loose the illusion, show your demon face, and tear my head off? Or else your attack dog rips my throat out before I can blink. I don't think so. Stop stalling."  
  
"I won't. I promise. And Apollo won't hurt you. He likes you, Xander, remember? You've known him since he was a puppy."  
  
"I'm pretty sure I would remember knowing that...beast. So start talking." He did lower the sword slightly, though only because he couldn't keep the heavy piece of metal up too much longer.  
  
"Apollo, hush. It's just Xander," the woman soothed her dog, rubbing him behind the ears again. "I'm going to call Rupert now, Xander, okay? Will that be all right?"  
  
Giles! Giles would help get to the bottom of this...except wasn't he all beat up and half-dead in the Magic Box? Great. So she was calling for reinforcements. Unfortunately, he'd given her a curt nod before realizing that the 'Rupert' she called would probably not actually be the Giles he knew and...well, knew.  
  
"Rupert! Sweetie, can you come here? Xander's here, and he's a little upset," the woman called, not taking her eyes off the young man.  
  
"Coming, Jenny!" the familiar English-accented voice came from upstairs, quickly followed by the just as familiar Englishman to whom it belonged. "Xander, what's-" He cut off sharply as Xander raised his sword again.  
  
"No sudden moves, okay? I don't know whether you're really Giles or not, but just...keep your hands where I can see them."  
  
"Xander, what on earth..." The Watcher rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "What's wrong?"  
  
Xander was blinking rapidly at the sight of the ex-librarian as he came into the living room. "Okay, now I know you're not really Giles. First of all, he would never walk around in nothing but boxers and a robe. B, he doesn't have that many muscles, three, he doesn't have scars all over his chest, and finally, Giles would _never_ walk around in nothing but boxers and a robe."  
  
The Englishman shot a look over at 'Miss Calendar', who quirked a small grin, as he tied his robe closed, quickly returning to Xander. "Xander, it's half past five in the morning, and I just got out of bed five minutes ago. Last time I checked, this was my house. I refuse to dignify 'B' with an answer, and you know bloody well where I got the scars from. So, getting back to the point, what on Earth are you doing here so early the sun's barely even up?"  
  
"Okay...when, exactly, did the world go crazy?" the younger man demanded. "Last time I checked, this was Buffy's house, just like it has been for the past...seven years! Not to mention her having been, oh, dead since junior year of high school, or you being all unconscious in the shop after Willow pulled her Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vadar-y switch to the dark side and sucked up all your magic to go destroy the world. And why are you looking at me like I'm the crazy one?" he added suspiciously.  
  
"Dead?" 'Giles' asked the woman incredulously. She shrugged.  
  
"So he's been saying. I think he may have hit his head on something. Xander, honey, what's the last thing you remember?"  
  
"Don't put your 'let's humor the crazy guy with the sword' voices on for me! I was sitting on the couch that up until five minutes ago was right there with Buffy and Dawn, trying to figure out how our lives had turned into living hells since Jesse died." The older two exchanged looks, which he caught. "Oh, no. Do not tell me that Jesse... never...died...oh, God, Anya."  
  
"And who's Anya, Xander?" 'Miss Calendar' asked gently.  
  
"Anya. Blonde, pretty, used to be called Anyanka? Vengeance demoness, lost her powers, got them back a month or two ago after I left her standing at the altar? Owns the Magic Box, really likes money? Am I ringing any bells here whatsoever?"  
  
"Well, I guess that answers the question of whether he still remembers Willow," the dark-haired woman sighed. "I just hope he hasn't told her any of this yet."  
  
"Yes, he's clearly not in his right mind...Xander, I've never heard of any Anyanka, nor any Anya, either. Buffy and Jesse bought the Magic Box a year ago when a demon killed the shopkeeper. And please, don't go telling your wife you have odd, random memories of almost marrying some kind of demon of your own free will."  
  
"Ex-demon...wife? What wife? I'm not married." He shook his head, more to himself, as he tried to muddle though some kind of logic. "No, Anya wouldn't have granted our wishes, 'cause that would have made us happy, and she still wants to leave me screaming and writhing in pain...besides, why would I be the only one here?" he muttered to himself. The pair that looked like Miss Calendar and Giles exchanged looks again as a loud thump sounded through the house.  
  
"Oh, bloody...Michael's out again. I should go-"  
  
"No, I'll go. At least he's not saying that you're dead, just under some kind of spell. And then I'll call Willow."  
  
"Willow? Willow's upstairs, passed out in Buffy's bed, because we didn't want the first thing she saw when she woke up to be Tara's blood on the floor. And who the hell is Michael?"  
  
The man who more or less resembled Giles shook his head and sighed as the woman turned and mounted the stairs. "Xander, I don't know what's happened with your memory, but will you please sit down, stop waving that sword around, and listen to me? Please?" With a sigh, he himself took a chair. Warily, Xander followed suit, not loosing his grip on the sword.  
  
  
  
Jenny Calendar-Giles put her hands on her hips and looked down at the two-year- old sitting on the floor of his bedroom next to his crib. "Making a break for freedom again, Michael?" The freckle-faced little boy looked up at his mother with puppy-dog eyes and an ingratiating smile, and she sighed, softening.  
  
"C'mere, you," she instructed, kneeling down to pick her young son up. She grunted softly as she stood up. "Oooh, you're getting too big for me to do this while I'm already carrying twenty-five pounds of extra weight. So tell me, what are you doing awake this early?"  
  
"'pollo," the toddler explained succinctly. "Woof, woof." She smiled.  
  
"Woof, woof is right. He woke us all up. So tell me, Mr. Michael, are you going to come with me to call Auntie Willow now that you're awake?" He nodded happily. Slipping into her bedroom, Jenny picked up the cordless from the bedside table and hit the second speed dial button.  
  
It rang several times before it was answered by a huge yawn and a sleepy "Morning?"  
  
"Morning, Willow," the technopagan greeted her student. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"  
  
"Jenny...what time is it?" the redhead demanded on the other end, yawning once again. Which answered that question.  
  
"5:30...I'm sorry, Will, but Xander's in our living room, and he's acting fairly incoherent."  
  
"Xander?" Immediately the younger witch sounded wide awake. "Oh, Goddess... is he okay?"  
  
"Yes...well, sort of-"  
  
"Sort of? Jenny, is he hurt?"  
  
"Physically, no," the elder woman answered truthfully. "At least, not that I can see. But he was rambling...he sounded very confused. I think something might have happened-"  
  
"Confused...confused how? Like 'how did I get here?' confused, or like 'who am I?' confused?"  
  
"Like..." Jenny paused a moment, trying to decide how much to tell Willow. She didn't want to scare the younger woman too much, but Xander had sounded a little crazy. "Like 'you died four years ago' confused," she finally admitted.  
  
"Oh, Goddess. Can you keep him there? He's not going to start running around Sunnydale, is he?"  
  
"What? Yes, Rupert's got him calmed down, but Willow-"  
  
"Good. I'll be over in ten minutes."  
  
"Okay...but Willow-"  
  
Jenny was cut off by a click on the other end of the line. She sighed. The last thing this situation needed was Willow running in unprepared. It seemed that Xander hadn't said anything yet to her that morning, but if he started going off again about being engaged to demons...Quickly, she hit redial, shifting Michael slightly to a more comfortable position. The phone rang eleven times before she gave up.  
  
"Damn," the witch swore uncharacteristically, then winced, shooting a glance at the little boy on her hip in the hopes he hadn't heard. Luckily, Michael seemed utterly absorbed in the knotted semi-braid he was attempting to introduce to her shoulder-length dark hair, and didn't catch it. With one hand, she reached absently up to untangle it; with the other, she was already hitting the phone's first speed dial button.  
  
"Come on, Mr. Michael," she coaxed as the cordless rang. "You might as well help me make coffee while I talk to Auntie Buffy and Uncle Jesse."  
  
The two-year-old bounced happily as his mother headed for the stairs.  
  
  
  
  
The first thought to stumble into the gears of Jesse's awakening brain as they slowly creaked to a start for the day ahead and he blinked his eyes open was quite simple. he reflected, raising his head to look down at the blonde head pillowed on his chest with sleep-bleared vision, For the moment, he was content to leave it at that, one hand unconsciously moving to tuck an errant strand of that lovely golden hair back behind the ear of the aforementioned blonde.  
  
Unfortunately for him, the second thought that came to mind was simply to groan, as the telephone lying heretofore peacefully on the bedside table began its shrill scream. And a moment later, of course, the entire scene of domestic tranquillity went to hell in a handbasket as Buffy sat bolt upright in bed, darting confused glances this way and that, and the baby monitor next to the phone lit up, producing a less shrill but more immediately significant sort of wail. Jesse let his head flop back wearily onto the pillow, reaching one hand out to silence the telephone, since Buffy's hasty departure from the bed more or less indicated that she was going to deal with the other problem.  
  
"If this isn't another apocalypse, you're going to regret it," he grunted into the plastic receiver. "D'you have any idea how long it took to get Joy to sleep last night?"  
  
"Well, Michael went through the teething stage at one point, too, so probably," came the far-too-cheery voice of the Sunnydale High computer teacher. "How've you two been handling it?"  
  
"We take a lot of catnaps," the young man answered tiredly, noting with some relief that the loud wails penetrating the apartment had slacked off. "Jenny, please say you didn't call at," he peered at the clock, "a quarter to six in the morning to discuss childcare. Because if you did, Buffy...well, she'll have something to say about it," he finished lamely, too tired to turn it into a real threat.  
  
"Believe me, I wouldn't tick off a sleep-deprived Slayer under any circumstances if I could help it," Jenny agreed heartily. "It's not an apocalypse, but it's really not a Tara and Patsy sort of thing, and I was hoping our most capable warlock could help me make something out of it."  
  
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Jesse informed his coven leader, "except when you've just woken my daughter up not two hours after we finally got her to sleep. What happened?"  
  
"Xander seems to have gotten himself into a bit of a mess..." As Jenny trailed off, Jesse groaned again. Of course.  
  
"What did he set fire to this time? It wasn't another spellbook, was it? I thought he was only supposed to get involved with a spell under severely extreme circumstances." Jesse loved his childhood friend like a brother, but it was a well-known fact that the former class clown had an uncanny knack for making spells go wrong. There was a good reason why Xander picked up a sword more often than he lit a candle. He had all the military training of a Marine SF-and Murphy's own luck with magic.  
  
Jenny sighed, calling Jesse back to the present, where he stood up and began searching for a clean pair of pants. If something really was the matter with one of his friends, he and Buffy would of course run right out to fix it, as always-with Dawn and Joy firmly in tow, of course. "No fire, this time," that was a relief, "just some strange sort of memory thing. He showed up in our living room half an hour ago, shoved a sword at me, babbled something about me being a demon, or dead for years or something, and then started ranting about Willow destroying the world and some demon named Anya or Anyanka or something. His memory's all messed up. He knows who he is, and he recognized me and Rupert and the house, but he thinks you and I are both dead."  
  
Jesse swept some of his hair back out of his eyes with the hand not holding the phone, shaking his head, not even surprised. "D'you think it was a spell, or did he just go and hit his head on a rock? Goddess knows, it could be either in this town..." Good old Sunnyhell. This? When you were a fairly talented warlock living with a Slayer, her monk-made little sister, and your 6-month-old daughter, this wasn't even something to bat an eye at.  
  
"I didn't sense a spell right off, but then, I wasn't looking." No. No, of course, she wouldn't be, not eight months pregnant. This late in her third trimester, the technopagan probably could have done a spell if she'd tried, but Jesse knew better than to expect her to risk her unborn baby's well-being by channeling away life energy. "I was hoping you or Willow..."  
  
"Of course." This sort of call was so second-nature to Jesse by now that he didn't even have to struggle to pull on his jeans with one hand. "She'll be headed over there, but if Xander's really acting wiggy, she'll be too worried to do anything major...I'll be over in a couple."  
  
"What about Buffy?"  
  
Jesse poked his head out of the bedroom door, watching with a smile as his girlfriend fed their now contented and-blissfully-quiet small daughter. "My guess is, if nothing big and nasty is hanging around, she's going to want to stay here with Joy. They need some mom and baby time, probably followed by a whole lot of sleep time. I'll drag Dawnie with me, we can grab coffee and doughnuts or something on the way back."  
  
"Great. Thanks, Jess. I'm really sorry for waking you like that...I really do remember what it was like with Michael."  
  
"If you did, you wouldn't be having another one," he informed her dryly. "Seeya in fifteen, Jenny."  
  
"See you, Jesse."  
  
Shaking his head resignedly at the muddle that was his life, Jesse put the phone back on the hook, pulled on a random, not-too-dirty shirt that was lying on the floor, and headed out to the hallway.  
  
"What's up, sweetie?" Buffy asked, recognizing the look on his face. Joy had finished her bottle, and was now being adamantly coaxed into taking a plastic teething ring from her mother. Jesse rolled his eyes and pecked his lover on the lips.  
  
"Xand-man's gotten himself into a mess again...nothing big, just typical weird Hellmouthy stuff. Dawnie, you wanna come with me to Giles' house?"  
  
The teenager, just crawling out of bed, glared at him from the shelter of the bedroom she shared with her niece. "I wanted to be sleeping at six in the morning on summer break, but nooooo."  
  
"I was going to stop for doughnuts, but I can't unless you're with me to carry them," he coaxed.  
  
Dawn was on her feet in a flash. "Gimmie two minutes."  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
Next time, Xander meets this universe's Willow, and sees his best friend for the first time in six years. Plus: Kendra's _other_ replacement, the final fate of Spike, and just where did Giles get those scars from, anyway?  
  
Questions? Comments? Whether you want to beg for more or threaten my life if I ever again set finger to keyboard, there's a nifty little feedback button I beg of you to use. Constructive criticism is much appreciated, but anything is welcome. 


	3. Chapter 2: Truth and Memory

What Might Have Been  
  
Author: Clarity  
  
Category: Angst/Action/Adventure  
  
Disclaimer: Sunnydale and the Scooby Gang and associates (even the dead ones) belong to Joss Whedon. This particular AU is all mine.  
  
Summary: After the finale of Season 6, Buffy, Xander, and Dawn relive old, bad memories and wish that things were different. Anya makes it so. Little do they know that change isn't always good.  
  
Rating: PG-13 at the moment, just for language content, possibly stronger later on.  
  
Spoilers: Pretty much everything major in the series. If it happened, chances are I'll mention it, and probably change it.  
  
Relationships: Giles/Jenny, Xander/Willow, Buffy/Jesse, Buffy/Angel (slight), Cordelia/Riley, Tara/Patsy (OFC). Also, the gang in LA, which is mentioned but gets no camera time, is all paired off except for Angel: Amy/Doyle, Fred/Gunn, Wesley/Darla. Yes, I said Darla. I swear, it's not as strange as it sounds. Oh, just read it.  
  
Feedback: Please?  
  
Author's notes: Really sorry about the wait; school started up again, and RL decided to intrude. Full force. Those of you who've ever heard of the IB program can empathize. Those who haven't...are lucky. Heavy angst in this chapter, as Xan comes to terms with the fact that the world is not as he knows it. Next chapter will hopefully be up before X-mass break is over and I have to go back to the hell that is IB Biology.  
Also-Dawn's opinion of Willow, as stated farther down, is more than a little out of character for the Dawn at the end of season six, but it's taken almost directly from something Dawn said at the beginning of season five. It's how I think teenage Dawn might have continued to feel about her 'surrogate sister' in a happier life.  
  
  
  
Willow got to the house faster, though not so much because she'd been called first, seeing as how her commute was a good few minutes farther. Quite simply, Dawn's 'two minutes' were more like ten, and the red-haired Wiccan drove like a bat out of hell-no pun intended. Meanwhile, Giles was at his wit's end with the young man now seated in his living room. He just hoped Willow could do something to fix that.  
  
Xander wasn't really acting any more annoying than usual, but he was slowly driving Giles crazy with his flat-out refusal to believe in anything the older man said. He hadn't threatened any more violence since the Watcher had gotten him to sit down, at least. He just calmly refused to listen, claiming that none of this was real and he must be under some kind of demonic, perception-altering spell. Which of course was more than likely, in Giles' opinion, but not in the way Xander seemed to think.  
  
Willow burst in through the front door not three minutes after Jenny hung up with Jesse, spotting Xander in an instant and rushing directly for the young man, completely ignoring the sword he held in one hand. "Oh, Xander," she murmured as she enveloped him in a crushing hug that, in Giles' opinion, probably quite knocked the wind out of the young man. "I was so worried when Jenny called, you snuck out in the middle of the night again, you know how I hate it when you do that, and I didn't even wake up this time, and you could have gotten yourself _killed_, and I know you can take care of yourself, you always say that, but even you need backup, and what the hell were you doing wandering around at five in the morning anyway?" she babbled, hardly pausing to breath, let alone for Xander to answer. "You know, I don't know whether to be happy you weren't hurt or to hurt you myself for making me worry about you like that, you idiot, and-"  
  
"That's _enough_," Xander snapped, his voice low and gravelly. Looking surprised, Willow stopped long enough for him to detatch her from where she held him tightly. What no one expected, however, was for the young man to shove her roughly away and stand, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. "That's enough, damnit! God, weren't things bad enough before you started messing around, whatever the hell you are? If you wanted us dead...well, all you had to frickin do was walk in the front door and finish us off where we sat, d'you really think any one of us were in any condition to stop you? Where do you demons get off being so sadistic? What, we weren't in enough pain already? You just had to throw it all back in our faces? God...you know, after the fucking HELL I've been through in the last twenty-four hours, you'd think...you'd think it would be enough. You'd think stopping _another_ apocalypse would be enough. But no, someone, some_thing_ thinks it's funny to shove everything that's gone wrong in the past seven years right in front of us again. As though we didn't know already! As though I don't hate myself every day for what happened to Jesse. As though any of us could ever forget Miss Calendar. As though..."  
  
His voice caught for a moment. "As though we're not all going to have nightmares about yesterday until the day we die. One of my friends died yesterday morning. Do you get that, you demon bastards? Do you know what it's like, to see one of your best friends shot before your very eyes, and not be able to do anything about it? Do you _understand_ how it feels when she comes out of it okay, only to find out that another one of your friends...the love of your other best friend's life, no less...is dead? Do you know what it's like to watch that friend torture and murder the man who did it?"  
  
Xander dropped back down into the chair, spent, as Willow and Giles gazed at him mutely. "Go ahead, kill me. Not...not an hour ago, I had to stand in front of someone I've known for... for seventeen years, easy, someone I've been _best_ _friends_ with for seventeen years, and try to talk her out of ending the whole goddamn world. I...between the past two days, and Buffy, and Ahn, and Spike, and Tara...and you know the thing? The thing is, I was dealing. My ex-fiancee slept with a vampire who then tried to rape Buffy, and Tara died, and the real Giles came back, and the real Willow tried to destroy the world, but you know what? I was kinda coping, in the way you cope when you just collapse and hold on to the people you care about as tightly as you can, and God alone knows what we were going to do next, but...but there was hope, you know? Our lives were crap, but once you've seen rock-bottom, you figure it can only get better. So I was coping. And then...and then whatever it is that just happened happens, and...you know, I probably could have dealt with Miss Calendar. I miss her, and I have this vague feeling that her dying was probably at least a little bit my fault, but I could have dealt with that. And Jesse...well, he is my fault. I killed him, I staked him, five and a half years ago, but I haven't seen him yet...maybe I could deal with that. But Willow...you throw her in my face, and...you know, I just can't do it any more. I give up. I can't...I can't do it. Go ahead, kill me. Buffy said it was nice there, maybe I'll finally get out of this hell that my life has become."  
  
Maybe he really did see something funny in his words all of the sudden, maybe he was just hysterical from grief and flat-out exhaustion, but for whatever reason, Xander began to laugh-not a laugh of amusement, or even a crazy man's laugh, but a sound of pure despair. "Hell. You know, with my luck, I'll end up there. Don't care what Deadboy said, it's gotta be better than this place. The real one, I mean, not this illusion or hallucination or whatever-the-hell it is you got set up here. So congratulations, Mr. and Ms. Figment-of-the-Imagination, you've defeated the Zeppo." He lifted his hands, then let them fall in a defeated gesture. "Go ahead. Do your demony mojo thing, finish whatever it is you brought me here to do, I give. I've been through more in the past couple of days than I used to think was possible. I'm done."  
  
Giles stared at the young man as he slumped in his chair, moved with compassion. Good lord; if these were Xander's most recent memories, no wonder he was unwilling to listen to reason. Even if whatever had happened to affect him like this hadn't put Xander under enough stress to begin with, then certainly, believing that so much he cared about had gone so horribly wrong in such a short time would have. Tara, dead? Certainly, Giles didn't know her as well as the four (once five) young people he had worked with so closely since Buffy had moved to Sunnydale, or consider her a surrogate daughter as much as he did the members of the Scooby gang. But he well remembered how long it had taken for everyone to recover after Cordelia's death a year and a half ago at the hand of Glory. With his girlfriend dead, Riley hadn't been able to cope with staying in Sunnydale at all, and nearly jumped at the chance to rejoin the army fighting demons when it was offered him. To think, no one had ever thought that the relationship was based on anything deeper than affection and a mutual physical attraction. Back to the topic at hand, however, if Xander believed Tara had died, and so recently as within the last day, no wonder he was a wreck.  
  
And that wasn't even considering what Xander had said about Willow. Trying to destroy the world, indeed...Giles didn't know where such an idea could have come from, but it didn't bear considering in any manner. Especially since Jenny had once given him the impression that Willow might, theoretically speaking, have the power to do it. That had been years ago, though, not long after Jenny had to call up every witch or warlock she knew that was still speaking to her after she'd abandoned the Kalderash in order to break Amy's rat transformation. A month and a half trapped in a cage had given Amy a newfound appreciation for freedom, which had in turn brought about a taste for the wilder side of life, including an excessive use of magic bordering on addiction. Worse, Amy had nearly dragged Willow down with her, hence the worry over the redhead's power. But Xander had known something was wrong with his girlfriend right away, and Jenny had been able to put a stop to it.  
  
At least, that was the way _Giles_ knew it had happened. By Xander's rant, the young man probably remembered events quite differently. Finding that the entire world around you was at odds with your memories must have been taxing enough, both mentally and emotionally. If he truly believed that reality had taken such a horrible turn...well, it was a wonder the young man hadn't collapsed.  
  
By the horrified look on Willow's face, though, she wasn't thinking in terms of the strain this-this spell, or amnesia, or whatever it was-had put Xander under. Likely she was still caught up in the part where her husband had declared that he'd had to talk her out of trying to end the world. Poor sweet, gentle Willow. She'd grown in self-confidence since high school, largely due to Xander's faith, support, and unquestioning love for her, but part of her still held on to the schoolgirl kindness and innocence that made her Willow. Her experience with Amy and the darker side of her own magicks had taught her a strong sense of caution when it came to her powers. To be told by the one person that meant the most to her that he thought she'd lapsed so fully over to the dark side must be devastating, Giles figured, especially since there was a chance Xander had simply imagined it all as some kind of potent nightmare, had himself thought her capable of such a thing. He needed to fix this, and fast.  
  
"Xander," Giles began hesitantly, not at all sure what to say to the young man who he looked to as a son, but knowing he had to try. Luckily, he was interrupted as the front door opened yet again.  
  
"Hey, G-man, I'm here. Where's-" Jesse cut off suddenly. Giles figured he'd seen the expression on his best friend's face. "Xander?"  
  
The young man looked up and made a strangled sound that could have been either sob or laugh, possibly both. "Jesse. And with Dawn, no less. Hi. Figures you'd be here too, although bringing her with, I didn't expect that. After all, it's 'torture Xander with all his past screw-ups' day. I suppose you're going to try to tell me this is all real, too?"  
  
Jesse looked stricken. "Jesus, Xan...what happened to you? You look like Hell." He winced-bad choice of words in Sunnydale-and put out a hand to stop Dawn from commenting. Looking slightly disgruntled, the teenager submitted.  
  
Apparantly Xander caught the irony, too, because he snorted. "Hell? Y'mean I'm not already there? Being confronted with someone who looks just like my dead best friend would have if I didn't stake him seven years ago, that's not Hell? Cuz it sure feels like it to me."  
  
"Oh, Xander...look, you didn't stake me. I'm not a vamp, I never was. I'm alive, understand? I'm-"  
  
"Stop it!" Xander snarled, sounding almost animal in his pain. "Stop lying to me! Stop trying to convince me that this is all real! I already told you, it hurts enough just to know what really happened, you don't have to pretend like it didn't!" So that's why Willow was sitting there, silent, frozen, and with an expression of complete horror and misery written across her face. "For God's sake, just leave me alone!"  
  
"No!" Jesse shot back, crossing the room in two quick steps and pulling his best friend roughly to his feet by his shoulders. "Not until you snap out of this and I know you're okay. Not until you listen to me. Look at me, damnit!"  
  
Nice hadn't worked, and Jesse was pretty sure, with Xander in this state, it wasn't going to. Roughly stubborn was going to have to. Reluctantly, Xander raised his anguished eyes to meet Jesse's.  
  
"Now, I don't know what you know or think you know, and I don't know what happened to you, but let me tell you one thing. Me? I'm real. Willow over there, remember her? Your _wife_? Who's now sitting on the floor crying because of you? She's real, and so's the fact that she's in love with you. This, all of this, this room, these people, the ones who care about you? We're as real as you are, do you understand me? As real as...as the scar across your right calf. Understand?"  
  
"As the...I don't...I don't have a scar on my-" Xander pulled the pant leg up, determined to prove his point, then trailed off as he revealed the aforementioned mark. "Why do I have a scar on my right leg?"  
  
"You got that saving my butt from a Polgara demon, remember?" Jesse coaxed. "You dove to push me out of the way, very ballerina-esque, by the way, and just caught the spike. What, you don't remember? You made me wait on you hand and foot for three weeks, complaining that it was my fault you couldn't walk. How about this one?" Jesse pulled up Xander's left sleeve to reveal the jagged mark running diagonally across his lower arm nearly down to his wrist.  
  
Xander stared at the scar blankly. "I don't...I don't have a scar there," he finally mannaged. "Why do I have a scar there?"  
  
This was really bad if Xander didn't remember _that_ night, the one that produced the very worst of his few non-demonic scars. "You've had that scar for over three years, Xan. Just before graduation, you got home just a little bit too early one night, and the bastard hadn't passed out yet? The day before Buffy finally put her foot down and made you get out of there? Remember?"  
  
"The day before..." Xander was shaking his head in denial. "No... No, that never happened. Buffy never knew. Hell, _you_ never...I don't have a scar there."  
  
"She never knew until you got that scar. The one you're looking at right now. And then you slept on Giles' couch until the Great Road Trip, and then you moved right into the dorms."  
  
"No. No, you don't understand. Buffy never knew. I would never want Buffy to know. If you're trying to create this perfect-world thing to throw all that went wrong in my life back at me, then why would Buffy know?" He sounded desperate, trying to make sense of something that didn't. Jesse grabbed Xander's chin, forcing him to stop shaking his head and look at him again.  
  
"Because we're not. We're not making it up. This is real." Tears were finally falling, silently, from those pained and pleading eyes. "C'mon, buddy. Why would you ever think it wasn't?"  
  
"Because..." He hesitated, then plunged on. "Because it can't be real. It's too good to be real. My life doesn't get to be this good. I don't get to have you and Jenny Calendar still be alive. I don't get to have Willow in love with me. It's too good."  
  
"Shit, Xander..." Jesse mannaged, before pulling his all-but-brother into a tight bear hug. "I promise you, it's real. Okay?" He caught Dawn's eye where she was trying to shake Willow out of her stunned state, motioned for her to bring the red-haired witch over. "Willow, tell him it's real and you love him, okay?"  
  
"Xander?" Willow asked, tears in her voice. "Xander, it's me, I swear it is, and I didn't try to end the world, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry about whatever happened to you, but I love you, I really do, and we're going to make it all better, I promise, we'll get your memory back, and when we do you'll remember that you love me and that I do love you, I promise, okay?" She didn't take a single breath the whole time. Jesse backed off, allowing her in to hug her husband, returning to Giles.  
  
"Thank you," the older man said. "I was beginning to worry I wouldn't be able to get through to him. He sounded so...so lost."  
  
"What happened to him?" Dawn asked softly, ignoring the look Giles shot her as she chose to perch on the arm of his chair. "How could he forget us? We just saw him last night for weekly potluck. And Willow, how could he forget her?"  
  
"Don't know, Dawnie. As soon as he's calmed down, I'll see if I can find any traces of magickal influence on him, but in this town...you know as well as I do that it could be anything." Jesse shrugged helplessly. "We'll start research right away, see if we can find a spell to fix it, but I seriously don't know what we're going to do next."  
  
"Well, he'd better get better. He's not hurting Willow any more." The teenager was fiercely protective of her adoptive 'family', but especially the girl she considered almost as close as her own sister. Willow still understood her better than anyone; she was the only person Dawn knew that liked school as much as she did, and they still continued their never-ending chess tournament in the Magic Box daily. No one was giong to hurt the older witch while she was around, not even one of her older 'brothers'.  
  
Jesse and Giles exchanged grins as ther listened to Dawn defend her idol. "He will, Dawn," Giles promised. "For now, the best thing we can do is just to remind him how much he belongs here with us."  
  
The couple near the sofa, who had been embracing and talking quietly, looked over at their friends. "So...this is really real, huh?" Xander asked, small smile on his slightly tear-streaked face. "All of it? Even-" He cut off suddenly with a wince. "Miss Calender. Oh, God, I thought she was a demon..."  
  
"She's fine, Xander," Giles assured him. "Worried about you, but fine. Sit down, you look about ready to collapse, and I'll go get her. And some coffee, we could probably all use a cup." He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Dawn to slide into his vacated chair, and Willow to lower her husband onto the sofa, still holding him tightly. Jesse claimed the edge of the table; Giles could throw as big a fit as he wanted if he brought coffee.  
  
"So...what _do_ you remember?" Dawn asked bluntly, since no one else seemed to know what to say in the sudden silence. "That made you go all crazy and try to kill Jenny and think we were trying to torture you?" Xander closed his eyes tightly and took a deep, calming breath. Willow patted his arm gently.  
  
"It...God, it's so real. So real...I can still remember how Warren screamed...and the look in Buffy's eyes after Spike..." He shivered.  
  
"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," Willow soothed softly. "It's not real. None of it's real. We're all alive, nobody died or killed anybody or tried to destroy the world or..." She trailed off, not really sure where to go.  
  
Xander opened his eyes, smiling gently at her. "Yeah. I know, I'm okay. It just...the past six and a half years, ever since we met Buffy, I feel like some of the times have been burned into my memory. And it didn't...it never even happened." His eyes swept over the room. "I never...I never had to stake you." To Jesse. "Or watch Buffy throw herself off a tower to save you." Dawn. "Or...wait, did that part really happen?"  
  
"Nooooo..." Dawn said slowly. "Why would Buffy-"  
  
"Xander?" All four young people looked up towards Jenny, standing tentatively in the doorway. "Are you...is everything all right?"  
  
"Um...no? Not really?" the young man admitted. "This is a lot to take in. But I'm...I think I'm coping. It's better than the way I thought the world was, anyway." He hesitated, then, all at once, "I'mreallysorryforholdingaswordatyourthroatandcallingyouademonandalmostkillingyou."  
  
The technopagan smiled sympathetically. "It's okay, Xander. You know the rule, in the great tradition of all the posessions we've had to deal with: no blaming each other for what we may or may not do under the influence of a spell. I promise, we'll figure out how to fix your memory soon."  
  
"Um...thanks...Jenny." He tried her first name tentatively, as though unused to it. Come to think of it, he'd been calling her Miss Calendar the whole time, hadn't he? Jesse supposed that made sense, if she'd 'died' before she ever even married Giles. "So...what now? I don't...I don't even remember where I live," he admitted sheepishly. "Let alone where I work. Did you say something about dorms?"  
  
"We live in the dorms at UC Sunnydale," Willow informed him. "In fact, you should go home and get some sleep."  
  
"Not yet." Jesse held up a hand. "I'm going to have some of that coffee I know Giles is making, and then I want to see what kind of magickal reading I can get off of you. If we're lucky, I can fix this right now with just a few words." Of course, that was about as likely as a sudden attack of giant, feathered pigs-but then again, this _was_ Sunnydale.  
  
"Jess? You do magick? Since when?"  
  
"Since Sophomore year, when we went up against Amy's mom and you pointed out that there was actually more in those old books than the woodcuts." Jesse grinned at the memory. Goddess, they'd been a couple of troublemakers at fifteen...and sixteen...and through the rest of highschool...oh, hells, they still drove Giles and the girls crazy, so long as there wasn't a crisis situation. "We dragged Willow into it, then Jenny found out and decided to give us some actual training before we hurt someone. But we made you stop doing spells because you kept accidentally setting the books on fire."  
  
"I _what_?"  
  
"You kept setting the spellbooks on fire," Jenny sighed. "You seem to have quite the talent for pyrokinesis, actually. Pity it seems to dominate your entire spellcasting ability."  
  
"No...no, it's not that." Xander looked confused. "I think...I think I remember that. Sort of. I mean, I'm absolutely sure that at some point in my life, I set a spellbook on fire by speaking Latin out of it, but I don't actually remember it. Just...that it happened."  
  
"Maybe your memory's coming back!" Dawn offered hopefully. "You know, not all the whole thing, just sort of...in bits and pieces."  
  
"Maybe," Willow agreed. "Jenny?"  
  
The Wiccan shrugged helpelessly. "I couldn't say without at least scanning. You and Jesse will have to figure it out yourselves. It could be. It could be anything."  
  
"Hey...Jenny, why can't you help? I mean, not that I doubt your abilities or anything, I know Wills is super-Wicca, and I'm sure Jesse's great and all, but the more the merrier, you know?" Everyone stared at Xander like he had three heads.  
  
"Xander, she's pregnant! She can't do magick now! All her life-force is going towards the baby, it wouldn't work even if she tried to channel it into a spell," Willow explained. Xander blinked.  
  
"Why did I not know that?" Shrugs all around.  
  
"They messed around with your memory, Xander. It's not like we know why," Dawn pointed out.  
  
"Which is why we need to do this spell," Jesse reminded everyone. "What's taking G-man so long with that coffee?"  
  
Jenny smirked. "He's hiding. As Americanized as he is, overlarge outpourings of emotion still clash with that staid Brit upbringing."  
  
Xander actually mannaged a grin at that. "Yeah...G-man still has tweed under the skin. Err...that's not completely out of character for me or Giles, is it?"  
  
Jesse chuckled. "Nah, man, that's the both of you. See? Things haven't really changed all that much. You're still family."  
  
Family...  
  
Xander looked at the people surrounding him; the playful teenager sitting across from him, the beautiful redhead nestled into his side, the motherly-looking woman standing near the door, his long-lost best friend and _brother_ perched on the table. All of them were watching him, and their expressions spoke of nothing but care, of concern, of love. For him. His grin broadened into a true, heartfelt smile, and it felt like the first real smile to cross his face in a long time.  
  
"Yeah," Xander echoed. "Family."  
  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
Next time, the life and times of Angel's gang revealed, and out Big Bad makes his first appearance. Also: Tara, Tara's girlfriend, and what's Anya up to these days, anyway?  
  
Questions? Comments? Whether you want to beg for more or threaten my life if I ever again set finger to keyboard, there's a nifty little feedback button I beg of you to use. Note that I rarely check the e-mail listed, ever since the addy got onto the list of about three thousand 'net mailers, but I will respond to questions asked through fanfiction.net if you leave yours. Constructive criticism is much appreciated, but anything is welcome. Flames are cheerfully used to light my Yule log. Merry Christmas! 


End file.
